Bobby immediately turned to leave, but Anna grabbed his arm. “I want to go home,” he whimpered. “This place even smells exactly like that dentist office I just told you about.”

“It’ll be okay,” Anna promised.

A birdlike woman, who had to be at least eighty, was seated at a makeshift reception desk. Engrossed in a television soap opera and eating mysterious gruel from a tin can, she gave no indication that she was aware of their presence. Anna walked over and rested her purse on the raised Formica countertop above the woman’s desk where people presumably forked over the money to be tortured. The “receptionist” remained riveted to the screen as two gorgeous young girls started screaming at each other about a man. One of them tried to slap the other, missed, and in two seconds they were rolling around the floor, scratching, clawing, and pulling each other’s hair. In the middle of such high drama, the show cut to a commercial. Soap operas are the same the world over, Anna thought.

The old woman shook her head disapprovingly, mumbled, “He’s not worth it, girls,” and then looked up at Anna. “Are you here for the cap?” she croaked. Her gray hair was pulled up in a bun, and frameless glasses rested on her pointy nose. Her Irish eyes were unsmiling. She wore a simple maroon jacket over a white blouse, and a garish rainbow pin was attached to her left lapel.

“Yes, we are,” Anna answered, anxious to make everything go smoothly. “I love your pin,” she lied.

“It’s a gift from my son,” the woman answered, not a shred of maternal pride in her voice. “Dr. Sharkey is with a patient. I have some forms for you to fill out.” She put down her spoon, opened a drawer, then another, and on the third try finally retrieved a clipboard with a cheap pen dangling from it on a ratty piece of string. “Here,” she said, handing it to Anna. She then reached over to a shelf on the wall. “And here are the forms.”

Anna frowned at the sight of all the questions on the first page. “Do we really have to fill these out? We just want a temporary cap to tide my husband over, and we’re paying cash. Our dentist is in the States.”

The woman stared up at her. “You’re paying cash?”

“Yes.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Just have a seat then.” Picking up her spoon, she turned her gaze back to the television.

The folding chairs proved to be as uncomfortable as they looked. Seated next to Bobby, who again had his eyes closed, Anna picked up a dusty magazine from the table next to her. It was dated three years ago. She dropped it back on the table.

The sight of Bobby looking so vulnerable was distressing. She didn’t blame him for being a wreck. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be in his shoes right now. Gently placing her hand on his, she leaned toward him. “Sweetie, we’ll do something fun and exciting after this,” she said softly, talking to him as if he were a child.

“Like what?” he asked somberly, opening his eyes

“I’ll think of something.”

The drill, which had mercifully stopped, started up again. Whirrrrrrrr. Pause. Whirrrrrrrrrrrr. Pause. Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Bobby squeezed her hand hard.

These walls must be made of cardboard, Anna thought.

Several excruciating minutes later the door to the treatment room flew open. A bearded man with tufts of gray hair spouting from the sides of his otherwise bald head emerged with the air of a general triumphant in victory. “Mother,” he said jovially, “let’s make another appointment for Mr. O’Leary, shall we? We made a lot of progress today. Yes, indeed!”

Mother? No wonder she doesn’t have to worry about customer relations, Anna thought. But what’s even more frightening is his taste in jewelry.

Mr. O’Leary stumbled out. Big, bulky, and middle-aged, he was attired in jeans, a red and black flannel jacket, and work boots. Watching him walk haltingly to the desk was like witnessing a baby taking his first steps. Anna wondered if he was the patient who hadn’t been to a dentist in twenty years. If he is, I bet it’s another twenty before he comes back, she decided.

Dr. Sharkey turned to Anna and Bobby and smiled. “Next victim!” he bellowed, then laughed heartily. “I made you smile, didn’t I? Welcome to the smile center! I understand it’s the gentleman who is here to see me.”

What a nerd this guy is, Anna thought.

Bobby nodded gravely, stood, and followed the cheery Dr. Sharkey into the treatment room. Before the door shut, Anna got a quick glance of a dentist’s chair that needed serious reupholstering, a tray lined with sharp metal utensils, and a tank of what she suspected might be nitrous oxide. She turned and watched as O’Leary took his appointment card, tried to locate his pocket but missed twice, and exited as though he’d just downed six beers. That must be nitrous oxide in there, she thought. And judging from Dr. Sharkey’s behavior, the tank must have sprung a leak.

Mother Sharkey had switched the TV channel to the news. She poured tea from a thermos as a reporter for a local station gave an update on the fire at Hennessy Castle.

“We just received word from a reliable source that a man and woman working together stole the tablecloth and set the fire, and left a note for Jack Reilly, an American who is head of the Major Case Squad in-”

Anna’s heart raced. She was exhilarated. All fears of prison were banished from her mind. This is what she lived for.

“-Reilly is reportedly not happy. He’s on his honeymoon, and looking for a couple known as Jane and John Doe is not the way he wanted to spend time with his new bride.”

Too bad, Anna thought.

“-The only description given of this couple is that they are average-looking-average height, average weight, no unusual characteristics. It’s easy for them to slip in and out of disguises and blend into crowds because they are so very average.”

The nerve of them, Anna mused. I feel pretty-like Maria in West Side Story.

“They were disguised as an elderly couple, but now who knows what appearance they’ve taken on? Whatever it is, you can be sure they don’t want to attract attention.”

That’s why we’re in this dump, Anna thought. A missing front tooth will most likely elicit a fair share of double takes.

“Anyone who has any leads, please call the garda.”

Uh-oh.

“Would you like to take a look at the newspaper?” Mother Sharkey asked sweetly.

Anna almost jumped. She was so startled to hear the receptionist speak to her. And the woman’s timing seemed suspect. “Thank you, I would.” She went over and retrieved a local Galway paper from the older woman’s outstretched hand.

Mother Sharkey snapped off the television. “I’m going into the house for a few minutes. If you’ll excuse me…” She didn’t wait for an answer, exiting through a door behind her desk, clutching the thermos bottle.

For a moment Anna panicked. Could this suddenly friendly woman be calling the garda about them? No. Anna realized she was being paranoid. Mother Sharkey is probably filling that thermos with whiskey. Anna glanced down and was immediately riveted by the headline on the front page of the paper.

CLADDAGH RINGS FOUND IN GALWAY BASEMENT

AUTHENTICATED AS ORIGINALS!

AUCTION EXPECTED TO FETCH A TIDY SUM!

Claddagh rings? Anna remembered that a couple of her Irish American friends in New York wore Claddagh rings. Her eyes widened as she skimmed the article.

Claddagh rings originated over three hundred years ago in Claddagh, a little fishing village in Galway. Legend has it that a Richard Joyce, who was from one of the original family tribes in Galway, had been kidnapped by pirates when he was on a trip to the West Indies. He was taken to Algiers where he was sold as a slave to a goldsmith who taught him the trade. Joyce proved to be very adept. In 1689, when King William III of England demanded the release of British slaves from Algiers, the goldsmith begged Joyce to stay, marry his daughter, and assume half his fortune. But Richard refused.